


The Snow War

by Fenchurch87



Series: Tales of Kirkwall (and Beyond) [31]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, fun in the snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenchurch87/pseuds/Fenchurch87
Summary: Anders learns never to challenge Marian Hawke to a snowball fight. Originally written in response to a writing prompt on /r/dragonage.
Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke
Series: Tales of Kirkwall (and Beyond) [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1086066
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	The Snow War

Marian Hawke heaved a sigh of relief as she crested the hill, her breath escaping her lungs in thin clouds. Her childish excitement on waking up and seeing the picture perfect snow covered landscape had quickly faded once she realised that they were almost out of milk and bread – and it was her turn to do the supply run. Thank the Maker she'd had the foresight to invest in a fur lined cloak and a sturdy pair of boots a few weeks before. She had a feeling they would serve her well this winter.

Glancing at the pattern of paw prints near the door, she guessed that Anders had tried to let the cat out, only for the cat to dash back inside at the first opportunity. Chuckling to herself, she shifted her box into her left hand so she could push the door open.

“I'm back, love!” she called as she stepped into the house. Ser Purr-a-lot eyed her reproachfully from his spot by the fireplace, as if he held her personally responsible for the unacceptable weather conditions. She set down her box of supplies and gave him an apologetic scratch behind the ears. Of Anders, there was no sign. She wandered back towards the front door and winced as she caught sight of the trail of slush that followed in her wake. She consoled herself with the thought that it was probably about time she mopped the floor anyway.

A closer examination of the tracks outside revealed another set of prints, left by somebody wearing slightly larger boots than hers. She frowned.

“Anders?” She followed the prints around the side of the house and was brought up short by something cold and round hitting her in the face.

“Oof!” She blinked the snow out of her eyes just in time to see a flash of blonde hair disappearing round the corner. “You! I'll get you for that!”

“You'll have to catch me first!” was the infuriating retort. She grabbed a handful of snow and gave chase. He was making for the small patch of woodland at the back of the house, but he had too much of a head start and it wasn't long before the trees hid him from view. She drew to a halt and listened.

It was his laughter that gave him away. She spun towards the sound and saw him crouching behind a tree stump, about to hurl another snowball. She ducked, and the snowball smacked into a branch.

“Ha! Missed!” she taunted, and released her weapon. He scrambled for his makeshift shelter, but he wasn't quite fast enough and her snowball caught him on the side of the head.

“Ow!” He stepped out into the open, rubbing his ear, and they faced each other for the first time. Then, by unspoken agreement, they both turned away to gather more snow.

He must have finished first, for she was still scrabbling on the ground when a ball of ice crashed into her back, sending a chill through her entire body. She rounded on him accusingly.

“A frost spell? You cheat!”

He shrugged innocently. “We didn't agree the rules before we started. So surely that means there are no rules?”

“That's a dangerous suggestion, love. But very well.” She threw one of her own snowballs and gave it a little extra force, just enough to knock him off his feet. Pressing her advantage, she loosed another as he tried to rise, leaving him sprawling in the dirt a second time.

“I've got you now!” she crowed.

“Not so fast!” He jumped to his feet with almost cat-like agility and launched another attack. Acting instinctively, she enveloped herself in a shield and the snowballs bounced harmlessly away. Keeping her shield intact, she harnessed more magic to gather as much snow to her as she could before releasing it all in a telekinetic burst. He reacted immediately, his huge ball of fire melting her giant ball of snow into nothing.

“That was clever,” she conceded grudgingly, and he acknowledged her comment with a grin. “Clever,” she repeated, “but not good enough. Because if we're playing with no rules,” she continued, allowing a triumphant smile to play across her lips, “then that means I can do this.”

He cried out in surprise as invisible forces lifted him up into the air. She held him there for a few seconds while his legs dangled uselessly, and then slammed him back down in the snow, face first.

“Andraste's flaming knickers!” he cursed through a mouthful of icy powder before rolling over onto his back. As he lay in the snow, she drove her victory home by sitting on his chest, trapping him on the ground. “You win,” he gasped.

“Say I'm the Queen of the Snow War.”

“You're the Queen of the Snow War,” he answered dutifully. “The most beautiful Queen of the Snow War there has ever been.”

“That's sweet.” She leaned down to kiss him and sighed contentedly as his arms moved to wrap around her neck – and then screamed as a handful of snow fell down her back.

“You bastard!” she exclaimed, shuddering as the chill worked its way down her spine.

“Sorry. I couldn't resist.”

“Oh, you're in for it now, Anders. I can't let that go unpunished.” She raised her hands threateningly and then slid them under his arms. He struggled to break free, writhing helplessly beneath her while laughing uncontrollably. She tickled him until they were a sweaty, panting, giggling mess of hair and limbs, all covered in snow.

“I yield,” he croaked.

“Good.” She kissed him again, a slow, lingering kiss, and brushed his cheek gently as she pulled away. “Now how about we go inside? We can light the fire, warm ourselves up. Get out of these cold, wet clothes,” she added with a suggestive quirk of her eyebrows.

He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “You're a dangerous woman, Mistress Hawke.”

“I am. And you love me.”


End file.
